Eternal Snow
by Time Whoadie
Summary: The world is not beautiful, therefore it is." His eyes narrowed at the flying remembrance. "That's why I travel."


Whoadie: ^_^ This story was inspired by many things! Especially the incoming spring weather *nod nod* *looks at snow outside* x.x oh well. ^^ I CAN STILL SMELL SPRING! *inhales deeply* Some things in this story may confuse you but bear with me till the bitter end. The characters, some of which I never really knew all too well (*cough* Van's mom *cough* ) so I created what they looked like ^^;;; sorry for that also.   
  
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"....." shall be talking  
  
'......' shall be talking inside one's mind  
  
Chapter 1-Eternal wounds  
  
A smiling boy weaved in and out of his mother's legs as he ran in spirals around her. "Mother! Mother! Look there's a small stream!" Excited laughter warmed the chill air of dying winter. The boy's laughter seemed to melt the winter wonderland around them and bring them closer to Spring. "Slow down, dear. The snow tends to hide branches, holes and ice, I don't want you to-!" Snow went flying as the boy disappeared beneath the large bank of white. She winced from the soft thump and quiet moan of surprise. She smiled lightly to herself as she made her way over the body print, she crouched over and picked up the little wet menace. "As I was going to say, I didn't want you to fall." She giggled as she wiped his face with her warm hands and removed the excess snow stuck to him. "Now then, where's this stream you saw?"  
  
The sad face of embarrassment immediately disappeared at the mention of his proud discovery. "Just over there, mother!" He was off again, back on his reckless path of determination. His mother shook her head as she laughed to herself . "What a wild child I have for a son." She smiled as she followed silently, like a silhouette gliding through a white sky of stars. 'And what a wild child Fanelia has for a prince.'  
  
"Did you find them yet?!" His voice was panicked as he spoke to the other guard. A sense of exhaustion and irritation could be reached through his gasping breaths. "Nay, we've searched the entire palace and market place. There's no sign of either one of them." The other soldier was also catching his breath. "You won't find them within the kingdom walls." A warm chuckle made the two pale. "If my wife doesn't want to be found, then she won't be found. Besides, give those two some time alone. All this talk of politics and planning for the future of Fanelia has tired us all, especially those two. My lovely wife was tearing her hair out from being told over and over again that she wasn't allowed to have any free time because of palace duties." He turned his back on the bowing and now shaking guards. "Never tell her no, especially if it's a no on seeing our son."  
  
A shadow leaned against the wall not too far from the approaching King. "Do you think they'll listen?"  
  
The elder man sighed, "What do you think?" Dark eyes moved towards the guards then twitched as they watched the guards run off, continuing in their rampant search. "Hmm guess not." The King chuckled, laying a hand on the boy. "Anyways, aren't you supposed to be in combat training?" This caught the boy off guard, "Well I uh...bird watching...and uh...ahem...later father!" He ran off, scaling the wall with ease and disappeared on the other side. "Why do they always get to have all the fun and leave me left with all the work." The King pouted as he dragged himself back inside the palace, ready to take on hours and hours of paperwork and arrogant dictators.   
  
Soft hands laced themselves in raven black hair, smoothing out all the rough tangles and knots. "Really Van, you should let the nurse comb your hair more often. It's like holding horse hair." The little boy wrinkled his nose at his mother's joke. "I don't want that old woman anywhere near me, besides my hair is fine, mother." Van wiggled out of his mother's arms to poke at the steady moving stream. Small chunks of snow and ice floated over the smooth pebbles that made the rapids. The boy proceeded to try and stab at the moving cargo with stick. "Hmmm perhaps we should cut your hair." Surprise sent the boy tumbling into the water. "WHAT!?" Startled, Van's mother quickly moved to the boy and pulled him out of the freezing waters. "I'm sorry, sweet! I didn't think you'd fall in!" She hastily wrapped her own cloak around the shivering prince. She moved some wet locks of hair away from his eyes, she blinked to notice that familiar leer. "I don't want my hair cut." She grinned taking Van into her arms as she stood. "Very well, young prince. Negotiations will have to be saved for another day. Come let's get you cleaned up."   
  
A gust of warm air swept across her back, condensing into fog as it passed her. The woman froze as a shadow was cast across her face. Her voice was low and tense as she whispered to her son. "Van, listen to me very carefully. I'm going to set you down and I'm going to hand you my hunting knife. It's the only weapon I have on me at the moment." She cursed herself for being so ignorant. 'I shouldn't have been careless.' A frightened voice brought her out of her gloom. "But why mother?" A firm smile replaced the frown on her lips, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Hug me close, little one." She tightened her grip around her child, something that was kept from her over the past month. She set him down on his feet slowly and handed him her knife. The knife was rather large in his petite hands, the emerald gems in the hilt glittered. "Now run and don't you dare turn your head back. Keep running till you see the palace or anyone, whichever comes first. Now go, may the gods protect you, Van."   
  
Van had no time to ask why because he was shoved forward. He stumbled but found his legs easily. His mind was screaming in confusion but his legs held the command and ran. His lungs were filled with frozen air, making his chest ache but he kept running. There was no scream from his mother like he thought he would hear, he only heard a sickening thump then the tearing of flesh. The echo of bones cracking continued to repeat itself in his ears, creating a visual image. 'I won't cry...I won't cry...Mother didn't cry...She wasn't weak, so I won't be either.' He blinked away the warmth in his eyes as he concentrated on running, his eyes looked at the ground. A growing shadow formed on the ground beneath him. The roar and the beat of wings drowned his hearing as he was knocked into a tree.   
  
"Folken, do you accept?" The King looked between the Captain Dornkirk of the Vione to his son, heir to the Fanelian throne. "Why him?" An eyebrow raised with suspicion, he never really had a strong bond of trust with the Captain. Then again, they were allies. Dornkirk only sat back in his chair with a relaxed expression on his face, his hands came together in a pleased manner. "The young king doesn't have any sort of military experience nor has he seen any other countries besides Fanelia's allies." His cold eyes turned to the Fanelian King. "He'll be thrown into a whole new world, one that will change his life. For the better of Fanelia, of course. I think your people would approve, their future king would have a vast knowledge of Gaia and a better idea of how to protect Fanelia."   
  
The King sighed. He didn't want to bloody his son's hands. "A good leader doesn't have to have military experience. One that can keep his hands clean of blood seems like an excellent ruler to me, it would show his ability in keeping peace between nations." A look of annoyance crossed Dornkirk's face. 'In your idealistic world, your majesty.' "Yes, you're absolutely right, your highness. But his involvement would provide a sense of security to the people of Fanelia, their future King would have had experience with war and have dealt with it victoriously." Before the King could retort back, Folken proclaimed his answer. Until now, he had remained quiet to observe the two opposing sides. It seemed he agreed with both of them, but his father gave him an edge of inferiority. He felt that the King was just being over protective over him, he didn't like the feeling of being trapped. "I accept, Captain Dornkirk." Dornkirk smiled approvingly while the King stared at his son incredulously.   
  
"You can't be serious, Folken! You're only 16 and living in a very rough era! Wars are erupting everywhere, you have yet to only begin to understanding the full political view of these wars! How can you say you want to join an armed force when you have no patience nor understanding of why they fight?!" He was silenced by the screeching of Folken's chair. Hands clenched into fists as the boy's arms began to quiver with quiet fury. His voice was forced at a low and calm tone, "And keeping me locked away in these walls will help me understand it even better? Those old men with their ancient texts and scrolls...do you think that'll give me a visual on what real battle is like? Am I to become a King, of a strong noble blood line of brutal warriors, through pictures and lectures?!" The Captain rested a hand on the shaking boy's shoulder. "We leave an hour from now, have your belongings packed before then. Bring nothing more than what you can carry." Dornkirk left the tense atmosphere but not without a satisfied smirk on his face. He had won.  
  
A gray cloud seemed to pass over the King's face. He got up from his seat at the table, "Do as you wish then. Maybe my ideas are old fashioned... so I will go along with this as a first proposal by the future King. Don't fail, less you wish to return to Fanelia in ashes." The King's back was the last thing Folken saw of his father. A tear slid down his cheek as he watched his father go. 'Am I doing the right thing? Yes...of course I am. I'm going to be the new ruler, I have to be strong and accurate in all my decisions. Yes, I'm doing the right thing.' "Goodbye, father." He bowed to the closed door and left through a connecting chamber to his room. The King stood in front of the closed door behind his back. "May gods protect you, my son."  
  
Warm liquid rolled down his face. Van blinked his eyes to try to clear his blurry vision. He groaned as he tried to get up, he could barely see it trying to approach him. 'Come on...I have to move...' Something struck him in the face, knocking him away from the tree. "Ugh, what is this?" He wiped his face with his hand, pulling back a dripping hand of clear goo. "Dragon saliva...gross." He tensed, oddly his eyes started to see red. The saliva had gotten into his eyes and was being absorbed into his blood stream. He couldn't help but scream as fire surged his little body. Sharp pain combined with the inferno burning within his veins. Eyes closed as darkness consumed his mind. "What is this..."  
  
It seemed like days had passed by when Van finally opened his eyes. His senses had sharpened immensely. It was pitch black out yet he could see everything so very clearly. Only, he viewed the night in red. He crawled towards a tree, wanting nothing more but to sit against it. When he moved he could feel aches and sores but surprisingly, no stinging or sharp pain in the gashes he thought he received. He checked himself, noticing that there were only scars left now. Even the bruises were slowly fading. 'What's going on?' When his back met the tree a jolt of lightning inflamed his upper back, mostly near his shoulder blades. The boy held his head as new instincts and ancient secrets swarmed at him at once. 'These images...I have wings?'   
  
"Burn it." The voice was final and commanding, arguing would be futile. "Yes, sir." The soldier that appeared to be no more than Van's age ran off to give the orders from the Captain to the squad. Blonde hair swept in front of the boy's eyes, he'd have to get a haircut after all of this. He turned on the speaker and let his voice ring clear. "All Slayers in barracks 5 and 6 are to report to the hanger immediately. I repeat, all Slayers in barracks 5 and 6 are to report to the hanger. Wait there for further orders by the Captain."   
  
Greed and insanity were shone through Dornkirk's smile as he looked down at the thriving Fanelia. 'One pulsing threat diminished.' The floating fortress was well hidden behind the thick snow clouds, releasing the guymelefs now would be best before it cleared up. "Captain, if you don't mind me asking, why haven't we left Fanelia yet?" Folken's eyes questioned Dornkirks. 'Something doesn't feel right.' "Just getting a last view of it before we leave, it would be best you say your final goodbyes as well. You won't be seeing it for awhile." 'Or ever.' Folken walked to the window, he could barely see his beloved country through the clouds, but the beautiful Fanelian forest stuck out still. "Goodbye Fanelia, when I return I shall be a strong and worthy King for you." He turned when a hand clasped his shoulder. "Come Folken, I'll show you to the Training room. I'll have a Slayer go through some basic sword patterns with you."   
  
"I have to get back to the palace...need to tell father about the accident...maybe I can be healed from this demon curse." Van stopped to lean against a tree to catch his breath. 'I NEED to get back. I need too...' His will alone was pulling him along, the fire within was burning and was almost unbearable. His wounds were almost all healed but inside he felt like he was being ripped apart, especially his mind, images and an odd language were all flashing at him and he couldn't get a grip on one too long to understand their significance.   
  
Van grabbed his head, maybe if he pulled it free from his shoulders it would stop bringing all these confusing thoughts. His mind was not abstract enough for these complex "memories" to organize themselves in. 'So I'll have to make it be.' He laid down by the tree, curling up into a ball on his side. 'Please let the pain be gone when I wake up.' He closed his eyes, watching the figures flash by through his eyelids.   
  
"Mama! Mama! Tell me a story!" 5 year old Van tackled his mother from behind, latching a death grip onto her legs. "Please please please!" His mother turned, almost like a shadow now in his dreams. "You escaped your studies again, haven't you Van?" Van did his trademark smirk that he had mastered at such a young age. "Story!" The woman laughed, although it did sound different this time. There was no life in it anymore, how sardonic. "Alright alright, my little one." She looked around for a source of inspiration, her eyes were caught by the window. "Do you know what race you are, Van?" Van smiled proudly, "We are Draconian!" She nodded happily, "Good! What is so special about us?" Van's expression distorted into a number of emotions, mostly confusion and frustration. "Our...market place? I really like those swords those men make." He nodded his head happily, finally able to arrive at an answer.  
  
The Queen shook her head at her child while laughing. "Well Fanelia is pretty famous for it's wonderful market and craftsmanship but those aren't Draconians, dear. I'm talking about, just our family. Do you know why we're such a rare race?" Van shook his head, slightly curious but also getting bored. "We're supposed to be a cursed race. Our blood is what damned us. The history, supposed myths and prophecies, is what makes...other people think of us as demons." The boy's face looked aghast at the passion spoken through his mother's voice. And the fact that she just swore also held his attention.   
  
"But why do they think we're demons?" His gaze held pure innocence and curiosity. His mother was starting to feel regret in starting this "pass time story." "Well, you see that's a little tricky. According to scriptures and ancient ruins, we were able to get pieces of our history." She saw she was going to fast for Van. "Do you remember what dragons are and what they look like?" Van nodded. "Have you ever wondered why most of them reside in Fanelia?" 'He's still too young, maybe that wasn't a suitable question.'   
  
He looked away for a minute, trying to come to an answer that would please his mother. "Why?" His mother smiled. "They were once Draconians. Punished hundreds of years ago by the gods, the reasons still remain unknown, but others say it was because the gods were jealous."  
  
"Why would they be jealous?" The memory started to fade, with the question still ringing in the air and the expression on his mother's face plain. She was afraid. He blinked as he came back to reality. Somehow his mother's fear in answering his question passed him back then. His simple afternoon story had turned into a dark truth that suddenly came back to him now. Why? The ache in his back was swelling, feeling like it was reaching boiling point. He groaned as he doubled over, he felt a sickening pop and then a tear. It all went black after that. A light shudder woke him up, when his eyes opened white was all he could see. 'A cloud?' His fingers grazed the white fluff. "Feathers?" His eyes widened as he tugged on them, his back jolted from being tender. He had a wry smile on his face as he laid on the ground. 'I have wings mother, was this a gift from you? The gift of flight from battle? I'll never use it for that purpose mother...'  
  
When he would wake, he'd be a 16 year old boy with a distant, cold look in his eyes. Hybrid was read all over him, his posture just shout predator. His eyes had swirled with red, bringing out his hidden "demon" traits. His other feature was well hidden beneath his shirt, he found them flexible enough to be folded, so that they would easily be hidden by a shirt slightly bigger than his frame. 'Why of all times was I dreaming that?' Van groaned as he rubbed his eyes irritably. He turned his head, noticing the fire had long since died, only cold charcoal remained. With one fluid movement, he was on his back. He stared up at the clear skies, his skin prickled from his senses telling him rain was on the way. He adjusted the sword at his side so that it lay flat next to him and not poking him in the side like it had been. "It still burns..." A dull ache from within burned brightly, never in his years had it stopped aching. An aching mixed with longing, he wanted someone to mirror his spirit and know his Pain. Someone to bring color back into his black and white world, he couldn't even see shades of gray anymore. His eyes closed, despite his wanting to stay away from night's gift of visions, but he was plunged into the world of darkness anyways.  
  
Droplets fell from his eyes, he couldn't hold them back. He had tried too, but one slipped and the rest just seemed to flow. The little boy screamed his hearts worth as he collapsed to his knees. His hands dug into the debris and ash under him, it was all gone. Nothing was left. No one was spared. The cold wash of grief and fear was too much, he was alone. He was starting to think this was all meant to be and by the cruelty of Fate, he had been left alone to bear this burden of sorrow. His fist made contact with the ground, repeating in reckless pounding at the humble dirt. "It's not fair! Why couldn't I have died?!" Those tears came back again, falling freely now without any interruptions. He rolled onto his side, finally landing on his back with a light thump. Red, swollen eyes stared up at the clear sky. "I'm too afraid to fear..." Birds flew above him, reminding him of his own handicap. His father's words grazed his mind as he watched the birds move above him. 'When people see birds, Van, they want to travel.' 'But why papa?' 'Because they envy them...'  
  
"I'll travel then..." Van rose from his crumpled position. He would survive, he had too. The memory faded, ending the dream. Morning's hands caressed Van's eyes, it was time to move on. As he stretched, he looked back towards the horizon. Birds, like the ones in his dream, flew towards him from the rising sun. "The world is not beautiful, therefore it is." His eyes narrowed at the flying remembrance. "That's why I travel."  
  
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Whoadie: sorry about the fast pace, but I needed to get everything in before I really get this story going. ^^;;; sorry! The next will be better, I hope. 


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